


Journey Back Westwards

by Guntz



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Super, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, OC's potty mouth, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guntz/pseuds/Guntz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Tsang, and I was born along with my little brother Gohan.</p><p>And this is how I ended up in the ridiculous, terrifying, and exciting world of Dragon Ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Son Goku

I can't remember dying.

It was probably for the best. The last memories being of me waving my dad goodbye as I went ahead home early by myself. I remembered it being dark, the lights that whizzed by me on the other side of the highway. Then afterwards, nothing.

I could only assume I was hit by some drunk driver or I had (somehow) fallen asleep at the wheel and drifted off until I crashed into a tree that it ended up breaking my neck. Whatever theories I had, they didn't matter, because I was dead and there was nothing I could do about that sad little error that resulted leaving my parents one less child and my siblings one less sister.

Hm? You're wondering how I know I'm dead?

Well...

The giants looming over and cooing at me, along with the baby lying next to me, would be a really big fucking clue as to where I was now. I had been dead, and then I was born, and now I was here inside a crib with my new twin brother.

You can just imagine the shock and denial of it all going through my head. This resulted in my body's instinctive need to scream like a bloody banshee, not calming down even when I was picked up by the woman (my new mother) as they tried to quiet me with hushes and gentle rubs in the back. I was dead! I was dead and stuck inside a body that wasn't suppose to be mine!

My crying mess was then passed along by another set of hands, and the movement caused me to stare face-to-face with the person who had the unfortunate luck of holding me. The first thing that I could think of when I saw him (my father) was that he seriously needed a haircut 'cause it looked like it had been wrestling with a tornado and got fried by a lightning strike. But then the more I looked at him properly through my tears, the more I took notice of his features. Black eyes, pale skin, obnoxious smile, and an outrageously hideous orange shirt and pants—

"Goku-sa!" the woman from behind me called.

I swore I felt my mind break in half.

_'No... Oh please god no...!'_

I was staring straight at Son Goku's face with Chi-Chi and the Ox-King behind me, bantering about something I couldn't make a lick of sense with because it was all in a complete different fucking language.

I screamed. I didn't cry, I just screamed bloody murder.


	2. Xuan Zang

They learned very quickly not to touch me, let alone hold me.

I was passed around like some hot potato. The three adults trying to shush me with soft murmurs, rocking in the arms, and morphing their faces to amuse me, but I screamed and shrieked in their ears until enough was enough and they placed me back in the cradle where I finally settled after hours. I was exhausted and my mouth was dry and hoarse from all the racket I made.

I lied in the crib, alone this time because my screams frightened their newborn son, and sobbed with my head turned away from the adults that spoke with hushed voices. I flinched and wailed when someone brushed their too large hands against my frail forehead or pressed a large hand against my stomach. I hated when they touched me and I was too weak to fend them off. Thankfully, those didn't last long and I was once again left alone to cry. They left me alone the whole day, in fact, thinking that maybe they could try again tomorrow morning.

Every living soul that lived within a radius heard my shrill screams when I was picked up again.

 _'How could this be my life?'_   I wondered desperately. _'Why me?! Why them?! Why this?!'_

I never so much as cared about the story. It was an anime a DB hard-core loving cousin of mine watched with about as much as religious intensity as anybody who watched Game of Thrones (another show I never cared about/never got the chance to watch). To me, it was a bunch of dudes punching each other at a stupidly fast pace, a process that was recycled that it had no originality to it. Still, my cousin tried to convert me to his church of dragon balls and super saiyans, and I indulged him... for about five seasons before calling it quits and heading off to the real world where _that_ actually mattered more than hand-drawn characters on a television screen.

This was probably my cousin's way of cursing me: condemning me to live in a horrible place where I would be beaten to a bloody pulp and explode to smithereens when the planet got destroyed by girly-looking lizard kings from space. Seriously, fuck my cousin!

And fuck Son Goku!

I cringed when the door from the nursery room opened, and I dreaded having to deal with Chi-Chi or Goku putting their hands on me again. God, couldn't they just fucking leave me alone?! I wished I had teeth to fucking bite their throats open to get them to stop touching me!

" _Hmph_! What an impertinent child you are, girl." a new voice breaks me out of my viscous thoughts.

 _'Wait... was that English?'_ I thought with wide eyes, forcing my head to look at the newcomer.

An old woman with hideous pink hair and dressed in the classical witch drab loomed over me on top of her floating crystal ball. She was small, almost as small as I was, her wrinkled fingers clasped together while her beady black eyes glared down at me. I stared up at her, wondering if I was imagining things in my desperation to seek out a sense of normalcy without these fictional characters crowding my space.

"So, you can understand me clearly then?" she clicks her tongue. "Good. This will make things much easier."

_'What...?'_

"You are a wicked child," she begins, her voice low and biting as she furrows her already glaring eyes on me. "You'd think that being reborn to do important tasks would be daunting enough, but you have the audacity to belittle and antagonize the people who are trying to be your family! I know this isn't easy, believe me, I have a lech for a younger brother, _but he's my little brother none the less_!"

I stared up at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. I couldn't say anything, even if I could with my vocal cords not functioning right considering I had been literally born just yesterday.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady." she hisses at me. "They worry for you because they think you to be in some sort of agonizing pain. They're even considering heading into the city to find professional help from the doctors rather than turning to a local mid-wife! You should have seen their distraught faces, you ungrateful brat!"

But... but my family...

"It's a hard thing to accept fast changes that leave your entire world spinning," she continues on, and I hear her voice change into something softer, more kinder than what her decrepit appearance contradicted. "But you have to know that you are not completely alone in this. It will be a hard road ahead... but don't you think that roads are better traveled when you have people walking beside you?"

Thinking back on it, their touches had been unwelcome because I had once been an independent woman who didn't like to rely on others... To have been reduced to a helpless little baby made me feel angry that I wanted to scream (and scream I did). When they touched me, I vaguely noticed that they seemed to be looking for something until my wails had scared off their searching hands.  A forehead brush to feel for a fever that wasn't there, a press against my tummy to measure the internal damage I didn't have; all this out of concern for my well being while I was screaming, sobbing, and fighting against this new place I wanted to deny to hold onto my old life and memories.

My eyes watered unwillingly, small sniffles escaping my closed mouth as I flushed red under the old witch's stare, and an overwhelming wave of guilt and self-hate washed over me.

They were worried about me because they thought there was something wrong with their baby.

"No, they were worried about _you_ , silly girl." the old woman corrects me.

I cried.

_'I'm so sorry...!'_

I barely heard the door at the entrance swing open, I barely saw the people hovering over my crib beside the witch that pulled away, but I definitely felt the tentative touches against me. Their voices, while hard to translate, sounded incredibly concerned. With reluctance and care, hands dipped around the small of my back, thumbs tucked under my arms, and then my body lifted out of the crib and into the soft chest of the new mother whose hands held me loosely as if afraid I would crumble apart.

 _'I'm sorry.'_ I sobbed quietly against the spot where her shoulder met her neck, my little hands clutching onto the fabric of her clothes as they absorbed my tears. _'I'm so fucking sorry.'_

Another hand placed itself against my back, large and engulfing it entirely. I absorbed their heat almost immediately, calming down little by little as my sobs fell into hiccups. They were talking, and I could hear the relief in their voices as they drifted in the air, happy that I was okay and not hurt or sick as they imagined I was.

"Tsang." lips brushed against the back of my head. "Son Tsang."

The name, I guess, I could learn to like. I'll miss my old one, but like the old lady said, this was a whole new world for me to experience. And what better way to start it than not calling me _Einstein_ , huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xuan Zang (pronounced Shoo-won sang) is a name of the character from the Chinese literature, Journey to the West (a story Toriyama Akira based his manga and central protagonist on). Another variation of the name is Tang Sanzang, so I took a few letters and created this: Tsang (sang).
> 
> Pretty neat, huh?


	3. Love is for Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Son Household was crazy, but it's the little things you have to cherish.

"C'mon Tsang!" I stared up at the bigger man crouched in front of me. "You can do it! Just swing your fist forward like daddy!"

It's been two years. Two years of almost sleepless nights spent watching the ceiling outside my crib, being fed horrible baby food and milk, learning how to speak (and read) the language, and being constantly hassled by parents that bickered over the future education/training of their growing children. Chi-Chi absolutely went nuts at the suggestion that her "precious babies" would become hooligans and idiots if they followed the path of Goku's want to teach us the basics of martial arts.

I agreed with her. What kind of father were you to try and teach your children who were barely learning to walk without support how to throw a punch and knock somebody's teeth out? But I found myself more inclined to indulge my father when my mother was looking the other way (or fussing over Gohan) simply because I was going through a phase I should only have developed during my teenage years.

Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to a second childhood. It was horrible, full of runny noses, shrieking voices, whining, and constant crying. I just wanted to be an adult again.

Plus, I thought with a shudder, I was not looking forward to my fourth birthday.

The day a Saiyan landed and changed Son Goku's entire world and began a long-time battle against all sorts of enemies that threw the world off its cycle.

"Punch here, Tsang-chan~!" my father cooed, showing an open palm.

I punched his hand with all my might, and I scowled when it didn't even budge against my pathetic attempt.

"It's okay," the bigger man grins at me. "You have all the time in the world. Keep going!"

 _'No,'_ I frowned as I tried again as instructed. _'We really didn't have a lot of time left.'_

"GOKU-SA!!" Goku and I winced, snapping our heads to the side to see Chi-Chi looming over us both with an oblivious Gohan propped up on her arm as she glared down at her husband with fire brimming from her dark eyes. "WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU?! NO MARTIAL ARTS, ESPECIALLY TO OUR DAUGHTER!! SHE'S A DELICATE LADY AND I WILL NOT TURN HER INTO SOME DELINQUENT!!"

"B-But Chi-Chi...!" he tried to protest, only to earn a bop on the head for his efforts, left as a heap on the floor while I was scooped up by my mother's other hand and led away by the fuming woman.

"No martial arts in this house!" Chi-Chi firmly stated before leaving Goku all on his lonesome.

I huffed, plopping my head against her shoulder in frustration. Me and Goku really needed to do this more privately without interruptions because I seriously doubted I would get far if my mother continued to take away what little chances I had in defending myself against the coming attacks of the Saiyans just a couple years away from ruining everyone's lives.

Something brushed against my tail (an extra limb that took quite awhile to get used to), and I turned my head over to see Gohan giggling playfully on the other side of our mother. Gohan, I remembered thinking with previous sneers and disdain, was a crybaby and someone who could barely take a stand without somebody having to push him to the edge in order to get him to simply do something. Now, however, when I took in his sweet smiles, cute giggling, and sparkling eyes that spoke of potential intelligence that exceeded the average toddler, I wanted nothing more than protect this image of him.

Battles against the Saiyans, the lizard space king, and robots from the future messed up any chances of him having a proper childhood. He had been exposed to horrors of losing people, friends, and occasionally his father that it pushed him to grow more as a pacifist than a blood-thirsty fighter than everyone expected him to be... That I had once expected him to be when I watched him from the television screen.

I wasn't going to let any of those bastards mess this up for my little brother. I'd sooner die and roll over than let that happen.

My tail was yanked by his, startling me and causing the other boy to burst out into giggles. I tugged his own tail back, a smile creeping to my lips as we wrestled each other's tails.

"Settle down now," Chi-Chi chides, but the small corners of her lips spoke of how amused she was of our squabbles. "Time to eat!"

It was a good thing now as I felt myself beginning to teeth, happily eating whatever was served to munch on it to satisfy the huge cravings of my large appetite. Saiyan metabolism was crazy, and while I felt bad for making my mother do all the work of cooking banquet-like feasts to appease our stomachs, I happily chowed down whatever plate was settled in front of me.

I had very little time, I thought as I cleaned my plate and watched my mother move around the kitchen and was eventually joined by my sulking father (that sprung up the moment he saw food being served), but I liked to pretend that I had indeed all the time in the world with this crazy family of mine.

A tugging on my hand alerted me, and I looked over my shoulder to find Gohan holding a rice ball in his hand for me to take. It had tuna and grapes inside it, I could smell them. My favorite kind of flavor... and Gohan remembered it! I grinned happily at him, taking the offered rice ball and sharing each other's food.

I was going to miss this.


	4. Be Prepared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyclops and Bandits

"C'mon!" a voice bellowed out in the forest. "Try again!"

With quick leaps against the bark of the trees that littered all over, I charged for the figure standing in the semi-clearing and whipped a leg out to deliver a blow to the head.

To my dissatisfaction, he caught the tiny leg that aimed to kick his head clean off his shoulders. That was to be expected, I surmised as I kicked away from him (and he dodged it with a raised arm) and flipped backwards until I landed a safe distance from my opponent, the stubborn man won the World Martial Arts Tournament. Sure, it was years ago, before Gohan and I had been born, but that didn't mean the guy before me had been idle throughout the years.

" _Boo_!" a voice from behind startled me into action.

" _HYA_!" I whipped around with a raised arm, ready to blow this guy through the forest.

But, again, he disappeared in a flash and I was left with a car-sized crater in the middle of the ground. I watched disinterestedly as a couple trees fell over from the loss of the ground that held their roots.

"Well, at least you're getting faster." another voice joins in, amusement coated in their tone that I didn't stop myself from rolling my eyes.

Tien Shinhan flashed next to Yamcha, the wild-haired former bandit sitting neatly on a boulder with Puar looming over his friend. The two older men who were serving as my temporary training partners.

Using my father's old contact list (happening upon it by chance when it was hidden away for some time), I called the number and was surprised to hear the voice on the other line belonging to none other than Bulma Briefs. God, her voice was just as loud and high-pitched when angry as I had imaged it would be when I saw her on the screen. When she found that it wasn't her Son-kun that was calling ("After four freaking years?! Are you serious?!"), she was bewildered that she was talking to her childhood friend's daughter.

It did make me wonder why neither Goku or Chi-Chi never spoke to anyone for the past few years. They couldn't have really forgotten the rest of the world when building their lives on Mt. Paozu, could they?

Later, I told my parents that I made contact with Bulma, my excuse being that I was curious of the contact list, and they ended up making a call themselves to speak to the blue-haired heiress of the Capsule Corps. to probably catch up after years of separation. It was a little early, but it was better to be prepared for what I got planned ahead.

Two months later, I found a teacher in both Tien and Yamcha. Since Goku couldn't train me, not without raising Chi-Chi's ire, I went ahead and recruited the two to learn the basics of defense and offense before moving on to the complicated stuff I knew Goku had to learn when he had been a child. The adults were wary at first, unsure of wanting to do any harm against a three-and-a-half-year-old  girl, but I was a persistent little shit until they finally caved in.

Yamcha served as a teacher for difficult exercises (some of which he learned from Master Roshi) and hand-to-hand combat while Tien taught me about speed and the utilization of ki techniques (blasting light from the tip of my hands, flight, and sensing other people's ki from great distances).

I had a lot of hard work ahead of me, and I was just three (and a half).

"Alright, time for a break!" Yamcha announced as he stood up while pulling out a DynoCap to click it on the top and toss it in the air.

A _poof_ later, a basket appeared and my mouth almost waters immediately when I caught the scent of fruit, freshly-baked meat, rice, and what smelled like pie. Mrs. Brief sure liked to spoil her guests. Being the polite one from my family (I would not be so greedy as my father was known to eat first and leave left overs for everyone else (which was rare), I sat down and waited for everyone to gather their own plates to fill whatever they were going to eat. Seeing them finished, I got a plate and gathered most (but left enough in case the men wanted seconds) before chowing down with gusto.

With a snort, Tien playfully made jabs. "That apple sure doesn't fall far from the tree, don't you agree Yamcha?"

The former bandit almost spat out his rice, face red and eyes watering with humor. Puar had no qualms in cackling like a little maniac, floating in the air (and away from my range in case I was in the mood to swat flying cats).

I only scowled (not that it worked, my cheeks were full of meat) but said nothing.

"Your training's improving." Yamcha began as he finally finished his lunch, turning to me with a report of my weekly escapades. "I'm thinking by the end of the year, you'll be probably as strong as Krillan."

Of the people I had met so far, Krillan and Master Roshi weren't any of them. I could understand why nobody would ever want us to meet the latter, but the former... I wondered where he was. Was he doing something else before he met up with Roshi at the Kame House? It was the only explanation I could think of why we weren't able to get a hold of the guy.

"Keep this up and you'll be passing up your dad, Tsang." Tien added, offering me a ruffle in the head.

"Hey...!" I scowled, hating that people were fond of messing up my already messy hair. I could barely keep it in control, but it wasn't as crazy as Goku's, I could only thank God for that small miracle.

"It's incredible," Yamcha said after calming himself. "Just three-years-old and already catching on faster than your dad could, and that was when he just _twelve years old_!"

"Yeah, no kidding." Tien agreed before turning to me to add, "You're family is scary strong, Tsang."

They had no idea... Not yet, anyway.

Seeing as we were finished, I helped clean up the basket and plates (a politeness ingrained in me from both my family here and the ones Before), I pat my knees the get the dust off my training pants, and I rose back to meet the faces of the two men who were helping me become stronger and faster with each and every meeting that took place deep in the forests of Mt. Paozu. The wilderness was crazy and dangerous, a perfect place to hone in my skills to adapt and overcome whatever obstacle thrown my way, as told to me by Yamcha when he heard of Goku's early upbringing of childhood.

Well, I thought with a grim smile, those big-ass creatures looked like cute animals compared to the really scary monsters in tights and armor coming to visit us less than a year from now.

<https://www.pinterest.com/pin/334884922271855686/>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The link above is a pic I requested for a friend to describe little Tsang.


	5. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Animals had the sixth sense: the prediction of coming disasters. 
> 
> What did that say about half-Saiyans?

It was pink.

I didn't like the color pink, but as long as there was a darker color to go along with it, I wouldn't complain ~~much~~. The blue and pink cheongsam was very similar to the one my mother wore when she had entered the Tournament (fighting and proposing my father at the same time!), with some minor differences: the dress was a little loose and it had longer sleeves that almost engulfed my hands.

"There we go!" Chi-Chi pulled away with a brilliant smile adorned on her pale face. "You look so cute, Tsang-chan!"

"Thank you, mama." I returned the smile hesitantly.

"Hm?" she noticed how more quiet I was than usual (a trait she claimed was how a true, delicate lady should act). "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, flattening the dress against my lap. "It's nothing, mama."

"Don't be so mopey, now, Tsang-chan." my mother lifts my chin to face her. "It's yours and Gohan's birthday, you should be happy!"

We turned four today, and my family and I would be celebrating our birthday at Capsule Corps. (at the insistence of the Brief's family). Everyone would be there (excluding a certain turtle hermit), gifts, cheers, and dishes prepared to appease three of the four members of my family. It was probably for the best since my mother would probably be driven up the wall if she had to be constantly cooking meals for her family (no matter how much she claimed it was her job).

I only nodded my head, not trusting myself to speak. Chi-Chi gave me a long look, concern brimming in her dark eyes, but she decided to ask about it later when a knock came from the door of the room we were holding up in Bulma's giant dome mansion/company. The door opened and a tall, blond woman appeared at the doorway, lipstick and powdery make-up plastered on her smiling face.

"Is everything okay, dearies?" her thick, Brooklyn-like accent sent waves of nostalgia through me.

Earth was Earth, but it wasn't like Earth. There was no New York, no America, no Russia, no anything, but this world carried small reminiscences of it that it was sort of hard to swallow sometimes.

Chi-Chi turned to me, giving me another once over before replying. "Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Briefs."

My mother was speaking English. It's no wonder how Fortuneteller Baba was able to communicate with me, she had been talking to me when Japanese hadn't worked out so well with me from the beginning with my parents. Mt. Paozu was mostly a place that was Eastern, but being in West City (where Bulma and her family resided), everyone talked English. Bulma and Mr. Briefs, being geniuses, knew tons of languages and everyone else had probably picked up on it later on in their lives when it came to the two main languages around here. My mother made sure to teach Japanese first to Gohan and me before moving onto English, and to be honest, I was pretty grateful she did that otherwise I would be probably like some hick (like somebody I knew of *cough* dad *cough*).

* * *

The party was quite the hit. Bulma sort of went overboard with the entertainment (apparently, hiring professional bands to play songs for the guests), but she was wise enough to bring in nearly a hundred of professional chefs to cook dinners, something of which my dad was ever pleased with from the amount of free food he got to stuff his face in.

Everyone was cheering, people clinking their drinks together, mom and Bulma talking science (a room made for increasing the weight of gravity that a feather would drop to the floor like a rock), and piles of presents being left on a table for me and Gohan to later tear apart.

And I was shaking on the inside, dread sinking down in my stomach like a ship sinking in an ocean.

I smiled brightly, _too_ brightly, when I was greeted by the guests and friends of my family, but I was trembling with God-fearing horror. When I saw Yamcha laughing from Bulma's angry slaps, I saw him being engulfed in an explosion by the tiny green bastard that took him out with its malicious grin plastered on its horrible face; when I saw Tien and Chiaotzu laughing with Blond Lunch, I saw Tien watch his best friend die in a futile sacrifice before wasting away the last of his life in a blast to take out a foe that wouldn't die; and when I saw Krillan looping an arm around Goku, I saw him violently ripped apart before my father's eyes by a tyrannical purple-white lizard bent on destroying everything.

Without a word, I slipped down the chair I was in and wandered into the bushy gardens of the establishment. There was a small pond full of koi fish, swimming serenely and completely ignorant of the troubling whirlwind that went through my mind. It hurt to think about it, to see it flashing behind my closed lids, and it especially hurt to see everyone smiling without a care in the world.

They had no idea what was coming.

I could tell them. I could have told them in the beginning that there was something coming from beyond the skies of our world that had every intention of doing every life on planet harm... but who would believe me? What could I say to explain how I knew of this?

No, I shook my head, nobody would handle the truth of being told they were a figment of a manga artist's imagination.

Just look what happened to Truman Burbank.

My thoughts of woes was interrupted when I felt someone drop next to me. I glanced to the side and found dad sitting Indian-style with both hands on his spread knees. His dark eyes were staring at me with the same concern I saw Chi-Chi look at me with earlier. I looked away from him, curling up over my knees with my tail wrapped around me like I wanted the earth to swallow me whole if only to get away from those eyes he stared at me with. I flinched when I felt a large palm rest over my head, easily grabbing a good hold of my skull.

"Tsang...?" dad leaned closer, his voice low and dripping with worry. "What's wrong? Is your tummy feeling funny? I think the shrimp wasn't cooked hot enough..."

I shook my head.

There was a pause—And then I was picked up from the grass. I let out a startled squeak from being suddenly grabbed, and I was face-to-face with my dad.

"D-daddy!" I cried out, still caught off guard.

"Are you okay?" he asked, disregarding my surprise.

Was I? Was I okay? That was a good question. I had been training since I had been able to walk, learning my ABC's from my mother with Gohan while doing little exercises my dad would set me to ~~when mom wasn't looking~~ , and I was getting much more better with proper training from Yamcha and Tien. I thought that with this, it would help me be better prepared from whatever horrors those monsters from space would throw at us, and me being strong meant that I could help with the fight that was going to change the world(s).

But...

"Tsang?"

I wasn't... okay.

"Daddy..."

I was _not_ okay.

I was pressed against my father's broad shoulder, not hesitating to lean against him and cry my eyes out in silence. Tears easily absorbed by his familiar dark blue and orange training gi. His strong arms holding me as a father would protect his precious little girl from the bad and scary things from the shadows of her bedroom. My tail wrapped itself around his wrist, feeling his pulse and simply holding onto something solid.

I was scared. So, so scared.


End file.
